Breaking With Tradition
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Summary: It was a good tradition, spending the Starry Night Festival with Carter. Just a doctor, a priest, and a bottle of wine. But Elli is determined to prove that even the best traditions have room for improvement.
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Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters appearing or mentioned in this fic. Chances are, they're owned by the people who came up with them.
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Ever since his first winter in Mineral Town, Dr. Timothy Cuthbert had spent the Starry Night Festival with his oldest and dearest friend.
Just a priest, a doctor, and a bottle (or two…or four…) of wine.
It had become something of a tradition by now.
And as with all good traditions, Tim saw little reason to go abandoning it now.
Even taking into account the big, sweet, sad brown eyes fixed appealingly on him.
"Listen, Elli, I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to let Carter down," he said with a tone of finality, not looking up from his work at the frilly blue and brown shape fidgeting shyly in front of his desk.
It seemed, however, that Elli had yet to learn the concept of finality.
"We could always have both of you over, and have a big party!" she suggested, cheeks already growing pink with enthusiasm for this idea. "It would be fun! You and Grandma and Carter can discuss important things, Jack and Stu can wrestle and distract you, and I can run around and pester everyone to have some more cake and tea!"
"And you think you'd really want your boss there, cramping your style?" he muttered a little sourly, trying very hard to be grateful to the young farmer for his nurse's smiles and sparkling eyes all winter.
And trying even harder not to feel guilty when her face fell and her eyes turned wide and hurt.
"Sorry, Elli, that wasn't fair," he sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"No, it wasn't," she agreed sternly, planting her hands on the desk in front of him and leaning over to catch his eye. "But I still want you to come over for Starry Night."
He bit back a grimace. He loved Ellen dearly, and took her as a comfortable certainty that the girl before him would age gracefully. And the idea of watching Elli scurry around the kitchen, flushed with the heat of the stove and the joy of the season, held a certain appeal.
Still, even though he was glad that Jack was making Elli a very happy girl, it didn't necessarily follow that he wanted to watch it happen.
And then there was Stu. He was generally a good kid, if a bit hyperactive and with a sixth sense for exactly what he shouldn't be getting into.
But between an evening watching a battle of wills between his nurse and her little brother, and an evening of quiet conversation with a good friend, the decision was easy.
"I'm sorry, Elli, but I'm going to have to pass for this year. I really doubt Carter will want to uproot our celebration."
"Maybe next year?" she asked, eyes fixed pleadingly on his. "When you can both plan for it in advance?"
He groaned inwardly as he felt his will buckling. She could be downright dangerous, he decided, when she wanted something.
Well, what harm could it do, agreeing to go celebrate with her family next year? He'd have time to prepare himself for an evening of noise and bustle, and a comfortably warm farmhouse kitchen, and a game of chess with a farmer much smarter than he looks, and proud mother snuggling a tiny infant with her eyes and Jack's ears.
He winced slightly. Damned imagination.
"We'll see."
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And so it was that the next evening, as the moon began to rise over the little mountian town, saw the doctor setting off for his evening with Carter in a distinctly bad mood.
Not only had Elli continued to cast him pleading, wistful looks whenever she thought he wouldn't notice, she had also done something infinitely more cruel: spent the entire morning in the Clinic's tiny kitchen, making all his special favourite dishes "for tonight, you know".
Ellen and Stu didn't even like the grilled shrimp, or the chowder, or even the almond biscuits, that had drawn him to the kitchen to investigate.
Brat.
Tim gave the church door a rather vicious yank, and nearly fell over when it was, at the same instant, pushed open from the other side.
"Well, good evening, Doctor!" Carter greeted pleasantly. "I was starting to worry that all this wine might have to drink itself."
The doctor let himself be pulled into a warm handshake, and smiled. Maybe his bad mood could wait until later; there were still things in the world to keep a man cheerful, despite adorable little brunettes who seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in throwing him off-guard.
"Good evening, Carter. I smuggled some of Elli's Starry Night baking out of the freezer for us."
Carter laughed as they dragged the door tightly closed against a gust of icy wind.
"Petty theft! No one gets into the holiday spirit quite like you."
"It was in the interest of their health," Tim said very seriously. Two children and an elderly woman working their way through a batch of almond biscuits in an evening are bound to wake up very miserable the next morning. And anyway," he added with an absent wave as Carter, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline, showed signs of remarking on his description of his nurse as a child, particularly when he was the one snitching cookies like a little boy, "she made twelve dozen; she shouldn't miss ten."
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Elli frowned as she finished counting the almond biscuits for a third time, and again came up short.
It was unmistakable; she was missing exactly ten.
Jack peeked carefully over her shoulder.
"What's up? Something wrong?"
She shook her head.
"No, everything's fine, Jack."
The behatted young man shrugged, and went back to the living room to continue his game of Battleship with Stu.
Elli giggled, cheeks pink, as she took one more look at the cookies made specifically for the task of ensnaring a certain someone.
"He's so cute when he thinks he's getting back at me…"
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"You're probably right," Carter agreed, peeking interestedly into the brightly coloured tin the younger man held. "One dozen out of twelve is hardly enough to worry about. Now, why don't we get to dinner before it gets cold?"
"Sounds good."
And with that, they went, Carter making very sure to snatch up one of four bottles of wine lined up on the long narrow table against the wall, as they passed.
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Two hours later, three wine bottles remained lined up in very much the same place on the side table, with one small difference: the wine was notably absent.
"Never liked farmers," Tim muttered, chin in his hand. "Smug bastards. Ooh, look at me! I've got a puppy! No girl can resist a puppy!"
"Well, you know what you have to do," Carter chuckled a little unsteadily, tugging the cork from the last bottle with a pop and setting it down in the center of the little table set up temporarily at the front of the sanctuary.
"Boycott puppies?"
Carter started to agree, then he stopped, his smile wilting.
"No," he replied, a little annoyed. "Get a puppy."
Tim frowned.
"Why would I do that?"
Carter attempted to smack his forehead into his palm, but missed by several inches.
"To win Elli back from the farmer! He has a puppy, right? You just have to get a better puppy!"
"She's not some trophy, you know," the doctor scoffed, arms crossed. "If she wants to date a kid with a farm, I can't stop her."
"Do you think she really wants to date him?"
"She invited him over for Starry Night," Tim reminded Carter edgily, nodding his assent as Carter picked up the bottle and filled first his own glass, and then moved to fill his friend's.
"She invited you over too. And me, for that matter. It's still a level playing…thing."
Tim bolted up from the table, hope dawning and determination hardening in his face.
"You're right, Carter. I'll see you later."
"Where're you going, Doc?"
"To get a puppy," he replied with a shrug and a laugh, as though this should be entirely obvious.
"Are there a lot of puppies around on stormy nights?"
Tim looked aghast.
"My God! Those poor creatures are going to freeze!"
Carter shook his head solemnly.
"It may already be too late for some, but others…I'm sure we can still save them if we hurry!"
And so the two men half-scrambled and half-stumbled down the isle for the door.
"Damn it!" the doctor muttered as he tried repeatedly and failed just as often to work the mechanism to open the door. The doorknob, as it were.
"Do you think Jack is behind this, trapping us in the church while the puppies languish outside in the cold? He'll step in at the last possible second, rescue them all, and claim every girl in town as his!"
Tim stared bewilderedly at Carter.
"I think you should lie down," he said solemnly.
"Don't be silly," Carter chuckled. "I just need something to drink."
"Good idea. I'll join you."
After a quick stagger, the two were seated again at the little table.
"So, tell me, Carter," the doctor slurred, wine glass tipping dangerously in his hand, "Is there a particular girl that you're attempting to rescue from Jack and his puppy? It only seems fair, after you've just found out all about my designs on my nurse."
"Tim, everyone already knew about your designs on your nurse, with the possible exception of your nurse," Carter laughed. Then he sobered. "But if you really must know, there is a special lady in my life." His eyes grew dreamy. "She is…truly amazing. Beautiful, and dignified, and I suspect that she has all variety of mystical powers. She is a little slow to forgive, and she her wrath can be terrifying—"
"Women," interjected Tim, who knew approximately nothing of women, nodding wisely.
"—but that just makes things exciting. She's an older women, and with age comes experience, you know."
The doctor choked slightly on his wine as Carter attempted to nudge him and missed repeatedly.
"Carter, please tell me you don't have designs on my nurse's grandmother."
Carter choked even more on his wine.
"No! I'm not insane, you know. The woman I'm thinking of, she is truly a Goddess."
"Okay, Carter, stop being flowery and tell me who she is."
"A Goddess among women."
"Yes, I get that."
"The Goddess. The Harvest one."
Tim stared for a long moment, then he flopped forward on the table with a pained groan.
"Are you still on about that? For God's sake, man, find yourself a real woman!"
Carter bristled.
"The Harvest Goddess is as real as you! But you're one to talk."
"What do you mean? Elli is quite real. Real, and warm, and soft, and…" He trailed off, eyes slightly glassy, smiling dreamily.
"Oh, yes, Elli's the perfect woman," Carter agreed pleasantly, then added under his breath, "if you like jailbait."
Tim drew his brows sternly together.
"I'll thank you not to say that like there's something wrong with it!"
"Nothing at all, as long as you don't mind sharing your bed with her and all her teddy bears."
"Elli's teddy bears are welcome in my bed anytime!" Tim said fervently, then frowned. "Well, as long as she's there too. Because if she wasn't, it might be a little creepy. And then she wouldn't have them, and she'd be sad, and she's cute when she's sad, but she's cuter when she's happy."
Carter gave a fond laugh much louder than usual.
"That's sweet. How could any woman resist such a man?"
Tim returned his smile with a grin.
"Well, I think even a Goddess ought to be glad to have you."
The two exchanged a hug – a manly hug, as they would later implore the narrator to put clearly on the record, having realized that it would be no use to deny that it had happened, as that same narrator had unmistakably observed it – and as they pulled apart, each stifled a yawn.
"Oh, heavens, I'm sleepy," Carter noted. "I think I'll go have a little nap."
And somewhere, somehow, a Goddess's ears perked up, and she made a mental note to visit the basement of the church.
"That sounds like a good idea," Tim yawned again, unheeding of Goddesses and their designs on his friend. "Mind if I borrow one of these benches?"
Carter waved his assent as he half-staggered and half-trudged off to the steps leading to his basement bedroom, and the doctor stretched out happily on one of the well-padded pews.
Within moments, silence reigned in the small country church.
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A short while later saw – or heard, rather – a little mitten-clad brunette giving a startled little shriek as her attempts to close the church door quietly were undermined by a strong wind whipping it shut with a bang.
She carefully dusted the snow off of a coat of cheery red cashmere trimmed in creamy fur and jaunty little cap of the same fur, a lovely surprise gift from a distant uncle who had guessed, quite accurately, that twenty-two was still young enough to squeal delightedly over pretty clothes.
Then, as the lack of grumpy, reclusive men scolding her for interrupting their celebration began to occur to her, she frowned. Readjusting the big, warm, fragrant box tucked under one arm, she crept slowly down the isle toward the abandoned table.
A sudden, violent snore sent her a foot in the air, with another startled, dismayed little shriek.
Once she had regained her footing, she watched the dark-haired shape stretched out in the pew, his labcoat balled up to serve as a pillow. She crossed her arms and shook her head, unable to hold back a little giggle.
He stirred.
Her grin widened as she leaned directly over him.
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The young Dr. Cuthbert opened one eye warily, preparing for a sharply painful rush of ridiculously brilliant sunlight to provide excellent evidence to back up the theory that he might have been better off never born.
After all, he recalled a good deal of wine in his reasonably recent past, and although he hadn't overindulged like this since his early university days, he still knew the signs.
One didn't hire the close friend of a sporadic, but heavy, drinker without knowing every symptom of a hangover in minute detail.
However, the crushing, pounding, throbbing headache seemed to be missing, he noted curiously, nevertheless very decidedly not complaining.
Perhaps this had something to do with the absence of bright, pale golden, beautiful, and utterly unnecessary sunlight streaming into his eyes.
But what was that, he wondered, squinting at the blur of brown and milk-white and bright red dancing before his vision.
Strange that it seemed to be inexplicably associated in his mind with smiles full of sunshine, but not the agonizing kind that hurt his head.
The little shape hovering over him made a stern face, hands on her hips. Although, everything seemed to be a little inverted.
"Elli!" he greeted happily. "We were just talking about you."
She raised an eyebrow, which to his eyes created the strange impression that it was slipping off.
"Who is we? There's no one else here."
"Well, me and Carter."
"So, where is Carter?"
"I think he went to bed," Tim replied, slurring no more than was reasonable for any man containing two bottles of wine. He pondered this. "So maybe it was earlier."
"Doctor, Doctor, Doctor," she tsked gently, shaking her head. "Just how much have you had to drink?"
"Only two," he protested.
"Two glasses?" she asked doubtfully.
He hesitated.
"No, not exactly. Might've been bottles. Might've been three. Or four. Or something."
"You're going to be miserable tomorrow," she lamented, striving for a sorrowful countenance and snickering a little in spite of herself. "I guess you probably don't want these, then."
He perked up as he noticed the box tucked under her arm.
"What are they?"
"Almond biscuits," she replied cheerfully, sitting down in the pew next to him and opening the box. "There are a hundred and thirty-four. There were supposed to be exactly twelve-dozen, but some have mysteriously gone missing."
"Strange," he agreed around a mouthful of cookie, expression the picture of innocence.
"Make sure you share those with Carter if he wakes up," she said sternly.
He looked up as something occurred to him.
"You just left your date alone to come bring me cookies?"
She peered at him, confused.
"Who, Jack? He had an errand of his own to run. He had a special necklace made for Popuri just for today, and he didn't want to wait until tomorrow to give it to her."
Tim made a slight noise of disapproval.
"Your date is running all over town, giving jewelry to other girls?"
"I think it's sweet," she announced with a cool sort of dignity. "And just for the record, I may hit you if you call him my date one more time. He's new in town, and I didn't want him to be alone on his first Starry Night in town, so I told him to drop by if he didn't have any other plans. And it's a good thing I did," she added, cheeks flushing delightedly at the little romance budding beneath her careful cultivation, "because I had to spend all evening prodding and poking him before he got up the nerve to go give Popuri her present."
"Are you sure risking embarrassment wasn't just preferable to being hounded and prodded all evening?" he asked with a teasing grin.
"He was doing it, too!" she protested, then gave a dismayed little squeak as she realized what she'd just said.
He blinked.
"And what was he trying to prod you into?"
"W-well, bringing my boss some cookies," she admitted, fidgeting shyly, flushed pinkly beneath a fringe of cinnamon-brown and the creamy fur of her little cap.
"Oh." He coughed, growing slightly red. "Well, they're very much appreciated. Thank-you, Elli." Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned over swiftly and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Happy holidays."
Her blush by now nearly phosphorescent, Elli stumbled dizzily from the pew and down the isle. At the door, she peeked back over her shoulder and sent the doctor a radiant smile.
"Happy holidays, Tim."
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End Notes: Hee! I've been wanting to do this story for about...well, a year and a half now. There's just something about Harvest Moon that lends itself so well to holiday fluff. I kinda wish I'd done a Christmas fic instead of Starry Night, but maybe I can have Gina and Alex celebrate Christmas instead. With some fun in the supply closet. Awwwww, yeah! XD
Anyway, perviness aside, I think Carter and Tim got a little silly in their tipsy state, but I couldn't resist. They're just so cute when they're being goofy and planning to rescue the puppies!
Oh, well. I hope you liked it, and Merry Early Christmas!